


Time to Die, Babe

by SenkoWakimarin



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, rated T for murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 10:31:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenkoWakimarin/pseuds/SenkoWakimarin
Summary: Wade doesn't make big plans. They wouldn't work, even if he did.





	Time to Die, Babe

The thing about Wade was, he wasn’t subtle. He didn’t like to plan. He was all about instant gratification. He didn’t have it in him to pull a long con. 

So it wasn’t an act when he went to Stryfe. There was attraction there, a willingness and a want. Stryfe would have known elsewise anyway, would have been able to smell a trap from a mile away if Wade was the one trying to lay it. 

No one put Wade up to it, no one even suggested it – no one who cared enough about Wade to think of him wanted him to put himself in that kind of danger. Because, healing factor or no, it was danger, putting himself close to Stryfe. He didn’t think it would be such a loss if he fucked up, anyway, and it would be interesting in the meantime. 

No one put him up to it, so no one knew where he went, until he started showing up at Stryfe’s heel. Never his side – Stryfe wasn’t like that. And then he started killing for Stryfe. 

Then, of course, everyone assumed he was just a traitor. 

That had its benefits too. No one held back, everyone was  _furious_.  _Nate_ , most importantly, was beyond pissed off. Honestly, if anyone  _could_  have killed him, Nate probably would have.So that was fun, exciting even.  Nate could be an asshole when he wanted to be, but then again, so could Wade.

Stryfe was fun. In a murder-by-number sort of way. He mostly used Wade a weapon, like a gun he point and shoot. Wade was never bored, and Stryfe was a lot more demanding in the bedroom. Nate was – well Nate was Nate. He was  _different_ , fucking night and day from Stryfe. Sometimes Wade held on to that. Sometimes, he couldn’t remember.

Sometimes, and he thinks Stryfe does it on purpose, he couldn’t tell Stryfe from Nate at all. 

It’s not really lying in wait when he doesn’t have a plan, and barely remembers why he switched teams in the first place. He’s having fun and making exciting new enemies. Stryfe is teaching him exciting new ways to hate himself. It’s a decent gig, even if he’s not getting paid. 

He sleeps at the foot of Stryfe’s bed, because it amuses Stryfe that he’s willing to do it. Honestly, after some of the mattresses he’s gone through, it’s not that bad. 

He forgets what he’s waiting for. If he was ever waiting for anything. He wonders, sometimes, what he’s doing, but it’s fleeting.

And then one day, it all falls into place. 

Nate shows up, alone, wrathful, ready to kill. Stryfe laughs but he’s pissed that Nate managed to get this far, and Wade knows he’s got a choice – he can stick with this new thing, or he can fix the problem. Because that’s what Stryfe is, ultimately; a Problem.

He watches Nate and Stryfe kick each other around for a while, because that never gets old. And then, when Nate’s looking a little tired and Styfe’s dumbass helmet is missing a few wings, he unsheathes one sword and stalks in close. Nate eyes him warily, but Stryfe barely pays him any mind.

Which really makes stabbing him a lot easier, but a lot less fun.

He doesn’t expect forgiveness, not after four months of doing Stryfe’s dirty work, the blood so thick on his hands he knows it’ll never wash. He doesn’t expect a welcome home, or acknowledgement, or Nate thanking him. He just wants the satisfaction of seeing Stryfe’s face twisted out of it’s usual smug look of superiority. The surprise on his face is like a delicacy to Wade; the look of furious betrayal, of honest-to-god shock. 

Wade pulls out the other katana and rams it between those glaring eyes without a word.

Later, Nate finds him as he’s gathering up his belongings from the room he’d been sleeping in when Stryfe didn’t want a foot-warmer. He asks why Wade hadn’t told anyone what he was doing, and stands there waiting for an answer. Wade thinks that’s kind of adorable, and says so.

He’s not a hero, and he’s not a monster. Sometimes he just had ideas, and mostly they get him into more trouble than anything. Sometimes though, they pan out.


End file.
